DIFFERENT [hs] |Complete|

Five

"Niall, you got a tattoo?" I jumped off my seat and knelt so I was at eye level with him. He had some sort of blue symbolised tattoo on the back of his left shoulder, which spread out almost in a way as if it was growing in size and spreading around his pale skin.

"Oh that, yeah got it not long ago."

"Dude! Since when?" I traced my finger over it, it felt bumpy but smooth. Holy shit, Niall with a tattoo. "You were always so against these things." There was a shadow of gold on the outline, almost as if the colour was winking.

"Change of heart I guess. Got it when I turned 22."

It's something I had never seen before, rounded patterns and lines traced over, and the colour was a light blue, almost like an aqua ocean. Frankly, it was beautiful and I couldn't stop running my finger and tracing the inner and outer lines. "What does it mean?"

"It's a symbol of tranquility. Just having a sense of serenity in times of discomposure. Just ... reminds me to not forget who I really am, what power I possess, so if the time comes then I'll act out. Take the role of how I am. Or some shit like that, I dunno," he murmured.

"Wow," I muttered, "wasn't expecting that." Knowing Niall he probably wanted the tattoo just because it looked cool, but it having a sort of deep meaning surprised me. Truth be told, it described Niall perfectly.

I sat back down on the couch bringing my knees up to my chest and looking over at Harry, "What do yours mean?"

"Mine?" He pointed to his chest.

"No Harry, your mother." I rolled my eyes and smiled looking back at him, his eyes were directed to the box of thai and his brows were furrowed. He cleared his throat and stood.

"I need the uh, I need to piss." He rushed out of the living room leaving Niall and I along with the sudden tension I seemed to cause.

I looked over at Niall confused, "Did I hit a nerve?"

"Sorta. Best if you don't mention family around Harry, he doesn't like talking about his past."

"Does that mean you know about his family?" I asked hoping to at least get something out of him. When I think about it, I don't really know Niall as much as I should. Childhood best friends, yes, but he barely shared anything from what went inside his home, whereas he knew almost all my secrets. Maybe some things are just better kept locked away.

"Cass." He warned, "Drop it. It's a touchy subject that he doesn't like talking about, you should respect that."

I nodded. He's right. "So why'd you get the tattoo?" I asked, thinking a change of subject is much needed.

He shrugged, "It's kinda tradition. Dad came back next thing I know I have this beaut on the back of my shoulder."

"Wait, your dad came back? Niall, when was this? Does your mum know?"

"Chill Cass, 'course she knows. He was only here for a few weeks." He simply replied. His father left him and his mother when he was eleven, with no trace, no contact. Nothing. And here he is not acting surprised by his return. I've never met his father, but in the eighth grade Niall would always share his memories of when he would wait by the front gate of his school for his dad.

High School was an odd experience with Niall. We'd have stupid small conversations, ranging from what a ditz some attention seeking people were, or he'd just talk about soccer and I'd slowly drift away from that conversation. We weren't in the same class the next year, so we shared stories about our classmates. Like that time one of his classmate thought it would be funny to give himself a personal haircut which went wrong in more ways than one.